


FFXII Speed Drabbles

by Octomerls



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:55:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octomerls/pseuds/Octomerls
Summary: Drabbles created from the FFXII server. Every week we get new prompts and these are just a few results from the prompts. Some will have ships and will be marked accordingly others will be general and exploring characters, though probably mostly from Basch's POV since that's a little easier for me to write.
Relationships: Balthier/Basch fon Ronsenburg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	1. The Mask of Loyalty

Basch watches the stars in the sky from the railing at Bhujerba. Nothing but the stillness of the air, the thrum of engines from ships coming and going as they please, and the loudness of one's thoughts. That is until footsteps interrupt the quiet. 

“Why?” A voice Basch recognizes asks. 

Vossler joins him at the railing, no closer than if they were strangers. Basch’s heart twists with the truth that the man he held with respect now looked upon him as if he were a spy among their ranks. They had been close once. Close enough Basch hoped in the beginning that he would come and help him escape the hells of Nalbina. Those hopes had been in vain. 

“Why what, Vossler?” Basch asks, honestly wishing the man would leave him be, instead of question his every move and motive. Trust broken, even if falsely, was hard to gain back on either side. 

Silence fills the void. A weighty silence, one Basch almost mistakes for Vossler ignoring him until he sees the tankard in Vossler’s hand.

Ah.

“Why come back knowing you would be branded a King Killer?”

The man can only ask him the question while filled with liquid courage. Basch shakes his head before sighing. How could he answer such a question when he himself did not know? 

“Vossler. You know where I come from. What I thought I lost when Landis was no more.” He wets his lips, trying to form the right words. “While Dalmasca has fallen, it is not yet gone. There is still hope, and there is a path that must be followed, and things that must be done.”

Here Basch turns his back to rest against the railings with his elbows propping him up. He can see why people like to come here. Watching Vossler with a sideways glance, Basch can tell just from his stance, and he’s drunk more than he probably should. 

“Oh, old friend. Even if I told you the truth, you would not believe me. As much as I wish to help the Lady Ashe regain what she has lost because of my brother, I have my own reasons for doing what I am.” 

Noah.

His brother, held tight by the chains of their past, believes somehow Basch’s death would appease whatever agony he felt. He knows his job towards Lady Ashe, but when his last task to the late king is done, he knows why he will continue this journey. They will cross paths again, perhaps then he can give his brother the very thing he wants. Perhaps there is peace to be found in such a death. 

“Come, let’s return the tankard to the tavern you took it from and then get you to bed.” He walks over to Vossler, slipping a hand over his shoulder and neck before helping Vossler stand to guide him. 

“You best not die on us, Basch fon Ronsenburg,” Vossler says with a hiccup, giving Basch pause. Did this man know his thoughts? “Tomorrow will be a hard battle.”

If only Vossler knew the inner raging storms behind blue-gray eyes that threatened to break him daily. 


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basch takes a trip back to Landis, bringing with him something he never thought he would have to.

Four months passed. 

Four more than it should have been, but there was so much still to do in the aftermath of it all. Those around Basch knew. Those in the streets going about their daily lives did not. The number of bodies that needed to be buried, or otherwise find their resting place. The negotiations and treaties were long, and Basch had donned the name of Gabranth, just as his brother asked, to attend them in order to protect Larsa. A duty he only took because it was Noah asking.

Duty before his freedom. 

But today, he wasn’t Gabranth. He was barely even Basch anymore if he was honest. But he still had one task to do. Something he should have done months ago. Thankfully, his charge was with the others, protected, for the time being, giving him the chance to do this. 

The Chocobo he took after they landed in Rabanastre stilled under him. The minute he asked them to look after Larsa, everyone asked what Basch was leaving to do. They wanted to come, to help him through this, well almost everyone. A certain sky pirate and Viera were still missing. The Strahl went missing too, so at least they knew the two were alive. 

But Basch needed to do this alone. He felt as if this was something he had to do for Noah and himself. Go back to where it all started, their homeland, Landis. 

He had long since passed the boarders of Dalmasca and entered Landis. The nostalgia from seeing familiar landmarks leaves him trying to swallow past a lump in his throat. 

The last time he had seen the rolling hills there were burning. The once green lush agricultural and was laid to waste by Archadian armies. Now though, he could see the land healing itself, albeit slowly. Trees were starting to grow back, and the fields were green, filled with native flowers he had forgotten about over the years of being in Rabanastre. Maybe on his way back, he would pick a few for Ashe and Penelo. He’s not sure if Fran would like them, but he’d make sure to have enough for her as well for the next time he saw her. 

Slipping off the chocobo, he patted her neck. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

She wandered off to a small patch of greenery, settling down. Basch knew she would stay. She always followed his orders. Ever since they had seen battles together back when he just starting to fight for Dalmasca. 

In front of him were the remnants of his hometown. Not much remained and what did was now covered by foliage. Half burned buildings. Others only the foundation remained. Most had broken roofs, or other damage to the houses from trees and other means. 

He remembered what building held what even after all these years. Whether it was a baker or the blacksmith or even just a girl he thought he fancied back then. Part of him wished he had been there when Landis fell. Even after all these years, he still felt the guilt of having left. The decision had not been made lightly. He wanted to save their home and Dalmasca was the means to save it, at least, he believed that then. Now, he’s not so sure if that was the real reason for him having left. 

So many decisions led him and Noah to this very point. 

What would their mother think of them now? Having fought against each other? Having been on opposing sides and now the only fon Ronsenburg that now stood was Basch.

He had never wanted this. They were brothers. Supposed to be family. 

With Larsa and Ashe on the thrones, he hopes there will be a long-lasting peace between the lands, and others would not face the same fate as him and Noah. 

Picking his way through his hometown, Basch stops in front of a house he knew. The doorway was broken, but most of it remained intact if overrun by weeds. Stepping through the broken doorway, he swallows past a lump. How long had it been? He’s not even sure. He had left his home even before leaving for Dalmasca. The Landis military demanding their soldiers sleep in the barracks unless married. 

He’s here now though and wants to make it right. Tears threaten to fall as he spots a photo of not only his mother but of Noah and himself as kids. Picking it up, he can’t help but wish things had turned out differently. 

“We’re finally home, brother,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper. 

  
  



	3. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basch wakes before Balthier and finds himself contemplating about sunrises.

Basch was never an early riser. Only having learned so due to his job as a soldier and then a knight. He much preferred sleeping in and enjoying the festivities of the night. But there was one good thing about being an early riser or rather this particular morning. 

Nestled against him, Basch can hear the soft, rhythmic, breathing of Balthier. Their legs entangled sometime in the night, now making it impossible for Basch to dislodge himself. It was not often he woke before Balthier or even managed to wake without waking the other in the process. 

If anything, he rather liked the feeling of Balthier’s hand curled between their chests and the other draped haphazardly over his side. The sheets only came to their waist, thanks to the sun just slowly peaking through the slitted shades of the window, creating beams of light bouncing through the room. It was growing warmer with each moment, not uncommon in Dalmasca, but Basch had never fully grown accustomed to the heat. There were still moments he missed the comfortable climate of Landis, knowing that there were only two or so weeks of heat and the rest of the summer was mild and comfortable. The winters were very much the same most years. Now, everything was different. But to have that again, he would be giving up this very moment, to which Basch believes is a little more important to him, despite the bouts of homesickness. 

As if Balthier can read his thoughts, the sky pirate shifts closer, nuzzling against Basch’s shoulder before settling again, not quite awake. Basch brushes a few loose strands away from Balthier’s face. Here, Balthier looks younger than he is, something he knows the sky pirate would not like to hear. Basch knows Balthier’s image means a lot to him, but to Basch he’d much rather see him relaxed and comfortable instead of a frown and furrowed brows in thought.

War aged everyone. He could see it in the eyes of Vaan, Penelo, and even Larsa. All three still in their teens and hardly considered adults, and yet the weight of Ivalice lay on their shoulders as it did on Ashe, Fran, Balthier, and himself. He supposed depending on how they perceived this weight changed the way they looked at the world. Balthier would have seemed the complete opposite to Basch, but in reality, Balthier knew when to do the right thing. His sense of justice, even if it was behind a rouse of just wanting to see where the story goes, Basch had grown to appreciate the way Balthier looked at the world. Without it, neither of them would be tangled together like this. 

His eyes grow fonder as his lips curl up in a small smile listening to Balthier mumble something in his sleep. What was said, he’s not too sure, too quiet even to hear among the silence of the early morning. Still, the fact Balthier was this vulnerable with him made his chest warn as he watched Balthier. 

He’s not sure how much time passes aside from the fact beams of light have filter further up the sheets until they hit exposed skin and continue climbing. Finally, when the sunlight reaches all the way to Balthier’s face, forcing the other to turn his head into Basch and huff in irritation, Basch chuckles. 

“Go back to sleep, Basch,” comes a mumbled reply from Balthier. “And turn off the light.”

“I’ve been up for a while, and that would be the sun. I doubt I can turn that off.” 

Another huff. 

“Do I have to get up?” Balthier asks. 

“No. We can stay like this for a little longer,” Basch reassures the other to which he receives a hum.

He kisses the side of Balthier’s head. Sunrises were not his favourite thing in the world, but this particular sunrise he would be sure to remember fondly. 


End file.
